


The peach boy

by Sunyiu2



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: First Dates, Fluff, Lestrade speak French, M/M, Pre-Slash, peach - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 02:37:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3793552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunyiu2/pseuds/Sunyiu2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg and Mycroft in their first date. Mycroft learn something unexpected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The peach boy

**Author's Note:**

> I promised to bereshit to post it moths ago, but it needed some work. But here it is finally.
> 
> Unbeta'd.   
> Every comments and kudos is welcomed

 

They knew each other three month by the time Mycroft built up enough courage to ask Lestrade out on a date. It went more smoothly then Mycroft anticipated, as it turned out Gregory wanted to ask him out too. They settled that Friday Mycroft’d pick Greg up so they could drove together to a restaurant. They talked in the car with ease until they arrived to a lovely small French restaurant. Lestrade frowned at the menu and Mycroft immediately cursed himself that he hadn’t thought that his date would have a problem with the French menu. As the waiter came Mycroft ordered to himself a salad and then turned to Lestrade to help him, he didn’t expect what he heard.

Lestrade ordered his food in fluent French and Mycroft swear he heard that voice somewhere.

 

_The Holmes family visited different countries every year when Sherlock and Mycroft were teenagers. One summer they went to France. Mycroft were seventeen and Sherlock only ten and the worst mood in his entire life all summer, but this summer was Mycroft’s favourite. One day he walked around in the town, his family went to hospital with Sherlock, he broke his arm in the morning and Mycroft had a day just to himself. He wandered around when he found himself in the local market. The smell was delicious. Fruits and vegetables all over the place, a colourful beauty in the centre of a little village. He walked in the aisles brought various fruits and take photos. He was in heaven. At home he secretly sneaks in the kitchen and helps the cook whenever he could; he love cooking and baking. He had a photo album full of pictures about fruits, vegetables, markets; that he and Mrs. Raven, the family cook, takes out and talks through it hours long. But this little market was something different. It was perfect in his opinion. Even so, when he turned left in the end to make another turn he saw it; a boy, couple of years older than him. He couldn’t be more than twenty but he had grey in his hair. He was beautiful, handsome, had dimples when he smiled, and oh he had a gorgeous smile. He helped one of the market stands he organized the peaches while he talked to the customers. Mycroft didn’t believe his eyes. The boy was an angel and the devil if that wicked grin and the gleam in his eyes was something to go on. When Mycroft decided to approach him one of his father’s security men informed him that they head back to England because of Sherlock's broken arm._

“Mycroft?”

“…”

“Mycroft! Earth to Mycroft. Can you hear me Major Tom? Mycroft?”

“It’s you”

“Hello”

“That was you.”

“Who was me?”

“The peach boy.”

Greg chocked in the water he drank and coughed a little. “The what?”

“The peach boy.”

“Do you know that repeating the same words after I've said what, doesn't actually make anything any clearer?”

“Yes sorry. When I was seventeen we had a summer in France. We rent a cottage near a little village. One day Sherlock broke his arm and I had a day to myself. I always loved the markets so I went to look around. I walked there a quite while, when I saw The peach boy. He… well apparently you organized the peaches and I… he was… and…”

“He was what?”

“He was so beautiful.”

The wicked grin and the gleam in his eyes was the same when he looked at Mycroft. “I spent   
my whole summers in France with my grandparents before I joined the force. They had a little orchard and a place in the market. There were peach, apricot, plum and almond trees. They make fun that they had a PAPA orchard.”

“I almost talked to you then. But we leave the day I saw you because Sherlock’s arm.”

“Well you can talk to me now whenever you want.” He winked at Mycroft who blushed immediately.

“Yes, well.” He cleared his throat. “I will.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Sooo… The peach boy, huh? With capital I’m presume?”

When Greg thought Mycroft couldn’t blush more he did; the top of his ears were deep red and even his freckles got a new hue.

“Sorry I can’t help it. You are cute when you blush.”

“I am not cute”

“Yes you are. And I love your freckles when you blush.”

Mycroft was saved by the waiter; he made a note to give a generous tip to him for his excellent timing.

They ate silently as Mycroft finished, his phone rang. He glance at it and looked up at Greg a bit sad.

“Sorry but I have to answered that.”

“No problem. I understand.”

“Thank you.”

 

Mycroft took his seat again as the waiter appeared with their desserts.

“I hope you don’t mind but I took a liberty and ordered the dessert for you too.”

“I am not, thank you.” answered Mycroft without a look to his dessert.

“I also hope you will find it satisfactory.” Greg went on, the wicked grin was back on his face.

Mycroft opened his mouth to answer as he looked down in front of him but the words stuck in his throat as he saw the ordered dessert.

“It is not on the menu but I asked the waiter and he assured me the chef will do it considering it is the chef’s favourite dessert but he can’t do it in such a high class restaurant. But if somebody ask for it who is he to refuse. So here it is.”

“I... you… I am…”

“Wow, you are speechless. It is just a grilled peach Mycroft, nothing more.”

“Yes but… I was sure when I took the call, you won’t be here when I come back, or just end the dinner and call the night.”

“Why? Because you saw me twenty-five years ago in a little village in France? You silly sod, it is just a story about us. A quite flattering story if I am honest but just a story.”

“Just a story?” murmured Mycroft not believing to his ears

“Yeah the kind that the grandkids love to hear about their granddads.” he winked at Mycroft

“I see.”

“Now take a bite My.”

 

Yes the waiter definitely deserve a generous tip indeed.


End file.
